Category Archives: Promoting yourself
Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.
Alyssa brought an apple
with a purple gummy worm
and gave it to the teacher
just to see if she would squirm.
Elijah left a piece of plastic
dog doo on the floor,
and Vincent put some plastic vomit
in the teacher’s drawer.
Amanda put a goldfish
in the teacher’s drinking glass.
These April Fool’s Day pranks
are ones that you could use in class.
Before you go and try them, though,
there’s something I should mention:
The teacher wasn’t fooling
when she put us in detention.
This saddest chore we will fulfil,
We women weak and weary still
From all these awful days have wrought,
We will embalm him as we ought.
But who will roll the stone away, and what about the guard?
So many things combined to make this day so very hard.
There’s the rich man’s garden, but what happened to the tomb?
My friends nervously approach and peer into the gloom.
An unknown voice calls, “He’s not here!” We scatter, terrified.
A minute later I return and take a look inside.
They’ve taken him! But where and why? What do they hope to gain?
Can’t they just allow us to endure our private pain?
“Please, sir, Mr Gardener, I do not mean to lurk,
Just tell me where you’ve taken Him, I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Mary,” says a voice I know, I look up in surprise,
And wipe the blurring tears from my disbelieving eyes.
It’s Him! He is alive and His body glorified!
“Teacher!” I said, so overjoyed to be there by his side.
“Do not cling to me,” He said, “I must still yet ascend
To my Father up in heaven, I am faithful to the end.”
“Go to all my brothers and tell them this from me:
I’m going to the glory that is mine eternally.”
That dawn began a whole new age, His rule began that day;
We’ll follow our beloved king, the Truth, the Life, the Way!
When Mary went to the tomb of Jesus on that first Easter morn
She knew that she had a problem that she must solve that day
She knew that the tomb with a large stone had been sealed
The problem was “who would help her roll the stone away?”
This is a problem that was not unique to them
And it is one that each one of us must face
For there are many stones in our life that need to be rolled away
Stones that hinder every member of the human race
The first stone to be rolled away is the stone of sin
A tendency which all of us have inherited
The desire that we should always please ourselves
Which shows that our salvation has not been merited
The second stone is the stone of unbelief
Which we have no faith in a future life in eternity
The belief that we must get as much as we can from our life on earth
Without excepting there is a future life in eternity
The third stone to be rolled away is the sin of pride
The feeling that we are superior to those we know
We may well be proud of our achievements
But humility is the other face we should show
The fourth stone to be rolled away is the sin of idolatry
When we worship Gods that have been made by man
Things which might not be bad in themselves
But not the God who was present when the world began
The fifth stone to be rolled away is the stone of prejudice
When we erect barriers between ourselves and others that we meet
Our conclusions are often drawn before all the facts are known
In other words we make our judgement before our knowledge is complete
And there are many other stones that need to be rolled away
If from the tomb of misery we are to be freed
For if we could live a truly happy life
We must live the kind of life God decreed
Mothers Day will be upon us soon
How are we going to celebrate this event?
Shall we buy her chocolates and flowers?
Or buy her an expensive bottle of scent
We all take mothers for granted
Expecting she will always be there
She is always a good listener
And all your problems she will share
She sometimes becomes a nurse and a doctor
When you have hurt yourself at play
She will sit you upon her lap
Until the pain goes away
She will do these things all of your life
In sickness and in health
She will never give up on you
For a mother never thinks of her self
A champion to all of the family
At times she will have her say
For a mother is the kingpin of the family
So show your appreciation on this her special day
Mothers Day will be upon us soon
How are we going to celebrate this event?
Why not dedicate a poem to your Mother
SEND YOUR DEDICATIONS OR POEMS
My mother was the epitome of perfection
She was eighty nine when she passed away
Who left us with many happy memories
Of everything she did and everything she had to say
For over sixty years she cared for her family
Which was composed of four girls and one boy
In spite of the many problems she had to face
She managed to fill our lives with joy
Memories of those times often come into my mind
These memories drive the sadness of her loss away
The efforts that she made and the joy she gave
Are remembered so on mothers day
Gentle she was, a young woman of means,
Beautiful in her Marcel Wave she was.
A hair dresser with her own shop
A teaser of hair and tresses.
Then the quiet Irish man took her eye and her heart.
Not impressed were her parents
With the young Irish trade unionist from the motor trade.
Time eventually brought them round to accept the vows
The young couple had made.
Grief she bore when her fist born
Died at six months. Brave she was to have more.
Three girls then two boys, and two more angels lost in-between.
Then after all was finished, me, making six.
Hard she worked to bring us up and support her quiet man
Who was there for her too.
Kind she was, good and open hearted she was.
The door always open to family and waifs and strays
Big hearted she was to all who past through our door.
Always there she was, with words of wisdom and comfort.
Her beautiful heart shone through her eyes.
Patient she was but there was temper there if needed,
She was not strong or mean but if needed
Her children and her man she would defend to the death!
Beautiful she was in features and in heart
There was no task she would not finish if she had made a start.
Cried for her daughters she did as her man gave them away
And when her sons married too she had a proud day.
Together alone again by themselves again.
Happy she was full of the business of her quiet man.
Yet she was always ready to talk and help and ease our pain.
Clever she was but not school or college wise
She was wise in life and love and truth and need.
Lonely she was when her man was taken,
Wept she did as she wanted to join him.
Lost she was without the quiet man .
Heart broken she became though
She threw herself in to caring for grandchildren.
Gone she was before her body, her mind and soul went to him.
Lost to us she was a smile here and there
Maybe a flash of recognition.
Unknowing of all around her she was,
Sad eyed frighted lamb lonely lonely.
Tiny she was when she went, sadly lost to us long before.
Gone into her mind to find her quiet man.
Tears we shed for her,we wept in grief and I in anger
Because so long had she been gone and I had wanted to talk to her,
But gone she really was.
Anemones her favourite flowers were
They always remind me of her.
I forgave her for leaving me
And now accept she had to go
As by the side of her quiet man was where she had to be.
Never to be forgotten.
Here’s the Hippie one!
I thank you
for that dreamy childhood
teaching me what I could
I thank you
for that happy meal
teaching me never to steal
I thank you
for that soft lap
where I took a long nap
I thank you
for that healing slap
remindin’ me that was a mishap
I thank you
for the pain that you felt
to lift me to this Earth
I thank you.
The fourth Sunday of Lent happens also to be Mothering Sunday. Continuing in my series of sonnets for the Church Year I have written this one for Mothering Sunday. It’s a thanksgiving for all parents, especialy for those who bore the fruitful pain of labour, and more particularly in this poem I have singled out for praise those heroic single parents who, for whatever reason, have found themselves bearing alone the burdens, and sharing with no-one the joys of their parenthood.
At last, in spite of all, a recognition,
For those who loved and laboured for so long,
Who brought us, through that labour, to fruition
To flourish in the place where we belong.
A thanks to those who stayed and did the raising,
Who buckled down and did the work of two,
Whom governments have mocked instead of praising,
Who hid their heart-break and still struggled through,
The single mothers forced onto the edge
Whose work the world has overlooked, neglected,
Invisible to wealth and privilege,
But in whose lives the kingdom is reflected.
Now into Christ our mother church we bring them,
Who shares with them the birth-pangs of His Kingdom.
I have been here all alone,
But look, how far you are gone,
Is it because what happened under the sun?
I can mend whatever had happened,
Give me chance to prove and make it right,
I am worth giving it a try
All those lame excuses you gave it to me,
While I am here trusting your innocence,
But now I realize, it was just some cloak to suppress your true nature,
I have been dying to know,
What had happened to our moments??
Which you had promised to be with me forever,
Yeah, I get it!!!
I was just your leisure,
And me taken for granted,
Not realizing all this being your cliché reason,
To stay away from me,
And look what have you done,
I am like a vagabond
with no goal or plan in this desert,
Trying to finish up what I have been through,
This could easily be ended,
Just a stroke of knife to the place which you have hurt,
Being the only place,
From where I won’t have to die with agonizing pain,
If you are far away, and get a chance to read this,
I am sorry for all those,
Even though you and I know its a lie…
My Two Mothers
A Burmese beauty
A northern rock
A life of travel
A life of the street
A sensitive mind
A bevy of friends
A love of nature
A love of food
A wartime refugee
A staircase to protect
A love of classics
A love of bingo
One loved her daughters
One loved her sons
Such different women
Such cherished mothers
Chalk and cheese
My mother in law
I‘ve been with you
since before your birth.
I’ll stand by your side,
as long as I’m on this earth.
A mother’s love is special,
a never-ending gift.
A love that’s always there
if you ever need a lift.
I think of you often,
never missing a day.
My love is forever,
and always sent your way.
You’re never far from the caring
thoughts in my heart.
No matter how many miles
ever try to keep us apart.
A mother’s love, your gift,
the gift I’ll always give to you.
As we watch our lives go by,
no matter what you say or do.
© Alan Royer
Eons advance and pass away
Thought, theory, speculation and opinions, die.
Glancing through lenses, and squinting, at the sky,
Adam pointing at the twinkling specs~ named the brilliant ballet
So, following mankind up the mountain,
And ascending a rocky path~ we embarked.
My feet followed his upward, to where the sky arched.
His staff pointed at the heavens; it filled me~ as a refreshing fountain
An advocate of The Father of Man, I desired what he sought
Thus’ left the home of my family and upheld his zealous quest
Confidently I abided and affirmed his every request
Even wore his belief’s~ I did just as he taught.
One day, dared I asked Adam, the man of science
How is Eve today?
And, if looks could kill, then Eve is dead, thus’ left us only to pray.
“Deceased, she is,” he answered, with a chill of neglectful defiance.
Man of Science, I spoke so boldly
At the mountain top; we stand
The stars, you named, and held, in your hand,
However, love you murdered, so coldly.
This day, I choose the divine mother
Her love, that first found me
Therein the warmth of a welcoming spirit~ illuminates she.
And, today, I accept non-other.
So, progressing and moving towards her;
Over, the cliffs of doubts and hopes
Rapidly grabbing for her hem, I aim.
Because after considering Adam’s pain
There in her grace ~ I seek her, safe harbor
I choose faith, that which, I cannot see.
©2014 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved.
The butterflies have fled
Sparrows have flown away;
Never to return.
Living within the circle of smoke and fumes
that hovers above.
Fighting over pieces of the earth
As if driven by the devil.
We beasts; the humans,
Born from her;
Dependent on her,
Yet, we dishonor her creations.
Fully aware of our misdeeds
Like pirates possessed by the evil
Drilling into the heart of the oceans
Burning the forests to create a concrete jungle
Each hill, each valley;
Wars; ruins and rubble; depressing debris, and
Ashes about everywhere. We pillaged.
When raping, killing, looting,
And pillaging is a punishable offence…
Why then is pillaging of nature justified…?
I speak softly for they, are listening
The assassins will be cornered,
The nemesis defeated
And the day of inevitable retribution will come.
I’m looking for my son if he’s there
‘ he’s hiding away I can’t see ‘ I’m running around vigorously.
I’m looking for where he goes ‘ I’m coming to get him that he knows .
I’m running around getting him in ‘ the door stays locked ‘ and he stays in.
The kids are home that is true’ they argue about everything you do.
They fight and shout ‘ and scream and kick ‘ you wonder how they don’t get sick.
The kids are home that is true’ they drive me nuts what about you.
They fight and argue all day long ‘ you wonder how things went wrong.
The kids are home that is fact’ I don’t know how they going to react.
Silence is golden ‘ peace at last’ the kids are playing ‘ having a blast.
Patricia Bourne WordPress 2014.
Pools of deep dark
I’m lost in
The swimming ofYour mouth
Strong and defined
(from Bell’s Palsy
and all the more dear)
Under your shirt
I so want mine
To be there
Cooking and fixing
After thirty years